


Unbreakable You

by Servetolive



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Anal Sex, Bloodplay, Drug Use, Exploitation, Horror, M/M, Vivisection, Vore, trash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-22
Updated: 2017-09-22
Packaged: 2019-01-04 04:53:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12161931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Servetolive/pseuds/Servetolive
Summary: A drug trip gone completely awry. Originally posted under friends-lock on LJ in 2011.





	Unbreakable You

**Author's Note:**

> This is a somewhat unfinished fic I wrote several years ago that I had completely forgotten about. Don't ask me what the fuck is wrong with me; I have no answer. Original author's notes (read: an attempt to explain myself) are below and in the footer.
> 
> \--
> 
> Attempting to relieve some stress my dark_fest long-fic is causing me, I decided to take my frustration out on the boys, so this is purely for that purpose. It holds no literary merit whatsoever and is just a retarded, gross piece of exploitation porn.
> 
> It was going well up until the point at which I stopped and crumbled in a fetal position, wailing "GOD I DON'T WANNA WRITE THIS ANYMORE ;___; DON'T MAKE ME." I even skipped past the part I don't want to write and wrote in a police investigation/coroner's report scene that is way too cool. I really want to finish this and post it to doctor_tailor but I just... the words aren't coming to me anymore, and I need to get back to "500,000 Seconds." So for what it's worth, here it is.

The first thing that came to Garak’s mind as he and Julian stumbled into their ill-gotten quarters was that _the doctor was wrong._

Running this far into Orion territory would _not_ shake the Federation authorities off of their trail; it would, however, create plenty of new problems that Garak had previously worked so hard to avoid. Dispatching the room’s previous occupants was also on the extreme side of the spectrum, even for Garak. When the two dead men were prominent and conspicuous enough to be able to afford a presidential suite, Julian’s argument for the act (“They’re criminals, Garak. They were on borrowed time, anyway.”) versus stealing away in a low-key love motel was moot, if not negligent.

Last of all, psychotropics were a bad idea. A _very_ bad idea. 

Had it been some months prior, Garak would never have let this happen; they’d have been on Cardassia by now, trying to eke out some sort of menial existence and avoiding the sharp-edged bells and whistles of fugitive life.

But somewhere between Julian’s resignation from his post at Deep Space Nine and his second kill, it had come to Garak’s attention that pieces of the young man’s temperament were being left behind each time they jumped from one system to the next; so much that Garak was finding it increasingly harder to both reason with Julian’s recently unleashed fervor for the next thrill, and to say the word “no” to him. He had to admit to himself that the doctor’s disturbing shifts in personality were the most intriguing thing he’d ever witnessed, however unsettling.

There’s no room for that excuse this time, Garak thought as he ordered the computer to lock the door behind him, the colors of the room warping their hues and bleeding into each other, seeping out of their assigned forms. If there were any time that a firm “no” would have been prudent, this would have been it: the drug, which had tricked its way into Elim’s mouth through a perfectly timed kiss, was a relatively new one on the market, and was reportedly untested on Cardassians. It had been only thirty minutes since ingestion, and Garak was not liking the debilitating effect on his motor functions and thought processes. Gods knew what it was doing to the former doctor, who, upon entering the suite, had deposited himself onto the large couch and was reclining against one of the arms, one foot planted firmly onto the ground.

“Elim,” Julian said, the name broken up by fits of laughter. He beckoned lazily with his finger. “Come here.”

Julian’s vibrant laugh had a pleasant, out-of-place echo to it. Both enchanted and disconcerted by it, Garak allowed his voice to draw him around to the front of the couch, having to constantly hold onto something as he walked. Twice before reaching Julian, he nearly fell over.

“Julian,” he gasped, grabbing the back of the couch to steady himself. He could actually _feel_ his pupils oscillating in his eye sockets. It would drive him mad if he didn’t get it to stop. “Julian, I don’t feel--”

“Elim.” Julian dragged out the vowels in Garak’s given name as he reached out for the front of his lover’s trousers and jerked him down on top of him by his waistband. His own body reacted in kind the moment his groin came in contact with Julian’s hard cock; yet, instead of the sensation being localized, he felt the arousal needling down his thighs and running the course of his main arteries, all the way to the tips of his fingers. The effect was dizzying, to say the very least. 

“Elim, I am _so_ fucking hard right now.”

“ _Julian,_ ” Garak ground out, fighting the sudden urge to burst out laughing into Julian’s face. He swallowed, despite his mouth being almost completely dry, and took a few deep gulps of air. “Listen... listen... to me. We _have_ to leave.”

Julian _did_ explode into a long fit of laughter that frustrated Garak and almost drew him in to joining him. “But we just got here!” the younger man exclaimed, his words intermingling with the resonating echo of his laugh.

Garak pinned Julian down by the shoulders with his hands, throwing his weight onto his upper body and unintentionally grinding his erection against Julian’s. Julian’s reaction was to wince in pain at first, the expression melting into an open-mouthed plea that Garak read as “harder.” 

“Julian,” Garak hissed again, fighting not only the distraction of their touching cocks, but the inviting nature of Julian’s dark, creamy skin, which peeked out at him from a contrasting shirt that matched the ivory coloring of the furniture. “You killed two people! They’re going...” 

Between blinks, Julian’s face shifted three times; from pleading to laughter and then to a feral look of voracity in his eyes that nearly derailed Garak’s train of thought.

“...going to...” Garak swallowed again, sweat dangling off of his eye ridges. “Trace us back here.”

“Then you’d better fuck me, _now._ ” Immediately, Julian began to squirm beneath Garak to pull his pants off. His eyes never left Garak’s, who was slipping away from his resolve as he wondered if Julian’s irises were _really_ shaking that fast or if it were the effects of the drug.

“When they come in--” a sharp giggle cut into Julian’s words, “--when they come in, I want them to find us like this.”

Garak’s will collapsed as he too began to pull his clothes off, each instance of cloth against skin alone feeling like electricity rapid-firing through his blood. In their respective efforts, they ended up sliding off of the couch and onto the floor. Yes, this was a completely stupid idea--this could be it for the both of them; they could wake up in cells the next day, destined to never see each other again. 

“Find us like how, my dear?” he panted as he slid between Julian’s legs. The carpet was soft and sank beneath his bare knees. Julian was soft and his skin sank beneath his fingertips. 

“Just like this,” Julian moaned as Garak’s fingertips dragged across his navel and up the slope of his exposed jugular. “Or maybe the aftermath,” he added with a chortle, “While I’m spread out on the floor and covered in your come, completely wasted.”

He needed to do this. The walls were wide and far apart. He could breathe. Julian’s beautiful complexion was running into the carpet then, but his eyes, glassy and vivid and unusually brilliant, remained fixed to their position. His words whirled about his head tangibly; he could almost see them.

He crushed his mouth against Julian’s, soaking up the moisture that was in overabundance on the human’s tongue. He brought his teeth down onto Julian’s bottom lip until the skin broke and blood seeped in Garak’s mouth, relieving it of its parched state. Julian whimpered and tensed, but that had never been an indication to stop in the past, and now would be no different. 

He saw that the amount of damage was more extensive than he’d realized when he released Julian: beads of red continued to well up against Julian’s lip even after he swept them away with a passing flick of the tongue. More blood coated the corners of his mouth and his labrum in a light, pink glaze. 

“Garak,” Julian said breathlessly, gazing at the Cardassian with a look encompassing both shock and excitement. Garak’s teeth had felt comfortable sheathed in the soft tissue and they ached for more. Following the cue in Julian’s eyes, he dipped his head and sank his teeth deep into the doctor’s left trapezius muscle. 

“Ahh...hh...aah!” Julian cried out and lifted his hips to Garak’s.

Garak dislodged his teeth from Julian's neck, fascinated by the blood pulsing from the wound. Julian didn't seem to mind, however; he arched his neck back, stretching the dimensions of the incision, and offered the other side. "Do it again, Garak," he moaned. 

Red was a nice addition to the canvas, which up until then had simply been a haze of neutral colors struggling to keep into a solid form and then blurring together. Julian was soft and his skin sank beneath his fingertips. His teeth ached along with all of the other inflamed nerve endings in his body that wanted to bury themselves within him. 

No. No, this wasn’t a canvas; this was Julian, that was unmistakable. Look at his eyes; how many lovely, earthen pigments swirl about them--

"Dammit, Garak, bite me again!" Julian shouted in an unusually commandeering voice, throwing his fist hard into the Cardassian’s shoulder. Startled, Garak looked down at him in wonderment, and could see in the glassiness of Julian's eyes his own blood-stained reflection. How pretty all that color would look if they joined the rest--

" _Do it!_ " 

Garak found the request hard to resist and brought his mouth down upon Julian's shoulder, shearing off all three layers of flesh with one bite. Julian’s enraptured cry disintegrated into an uncontrolled tittering that sounded as though he were being tickled. For a moment, Garak closed his eyes to shield himself from all sensory perception and focused only on the warmth surrounding his canines as he pulled away, revealing the spasming muscle beneath. Blood drooled from the wound, obscuring its inner workings.

“Garak..." Julian breathed airily and licked his lips as Garak laved his tongue slowly over the exposed muscle, twitching under the contact. "Tell me how I taste."

Garak brought his head up slowly to meet Julian's glazed-over eyes, assessing the wanton hunger swirling about them. How pliant his flesh was; that it seemingly took no effort to break made Garak eager to try elsewhere, to see if his fingers could cut through the matter with the same knife-like ease as his teeth.

“Sweet, my dear,” he answered, his hands cold and tingling with anticipation at his most recent thought. “Very sweet.”

"Kiss me," Julian moaned. "I want to taste it too." He offered his tongue, still spotted with red from his torn lip. Garak took it in his mouth, swirling his own tongue around Julian’s, allowing the sticky fluid to drizzle down his throat.

“Re...” Julian choked out, as Garak withdrew. “...re...markable...”

“Julian.” Garak said his name out loud for no other reason than to taste syllables and swallow the prickling sensation that burned wherever Julian’s vital fluids came in contact.

“Don’t stop yet,” the latter said, and it was all the encouragement needed for Garak to lean down and enclose his teeth against the former doctor’s clavicle.

"Oooohh..." Julian hissed as bone met bone. He rubbed himself up against Garak's cock, coaxing him for more. "Do the other one; quick!"

As a low, distant laugh rose from Julian's throat, more blood spurted from the hole in his neck and onto their chests. Garak lapped at the slicked hollow below his jugular and obeyed, creating a matching set of bite marks on the other side. Meanwhile, Julian's hands roamed between their torsos, sweeping up the moisture with his fingers and smearing it over the untainted portions of his body, marking them as targets. 

Garak’s erection swelled painfully as it lay heavy against Julian’s navel. Had the old, straight-laced doctor with impeccable moral standards ever looked so ravenous? Was there a moment before this that Julian’s eyes had completely annihilated any reservations he’d had about anything? 

Eagerly, Garak broke Julian's skin again, biting through the protective layers of skin, peeling it upward, exposing the inner-workings of the doctor's neck. Veins, all ranges of colors from blue to red, created an intricate tapestry before Garak's eyes. 

"Julian, you are--”

Julian was soft and his skin sank beneath his fingertips.

The ground beneath them also sank as Garak burrowed his fingers deep into Julian’s flanks, extinguishing the curious flames that had been burning there. He drank in Julian’s cries of abandon; pushed his groin down against his when the young man arched up. 

“-- _beautiful_ inside."

Flecks of red exploded from Julian's mouth as he gasped out desperately, spotting the drying blood on his chin with a fresh coat. 

"Show me how beautiful I am, Garak.” He spread his thighs further, his feet planted on either side of Garak’s calves. “All of me." 

The colors began to run again, but Garak was not going to let that distract him. He rolled the tip of his tongue around the corners of his mouth and focused his gaze upon Julian’s eyes, the only unchanging constant in the room, still clear and aquatic and holding firmly their original, gorgeous state. The rest, he could paint over; change--and had, as evidence by the blues, blacks and whites that were peeking into the very edges of his peripheral vision. 

Suddenly, Garak was overcome with the irrefutable need to be completely inundated by Julian, to feel that pulsating warmth surrounding him on each of his own surfaces. He removed the fingers of his right hand from Julian’s torso slowly, one by one, dragging out each delicious syllable from the young man’s pleading mouth. Each digit extracted was followed by a hot rush of blood, coating Garak’s fingers and flickering in intensity as Julian violently convulsed.

“Anything you say, Doctor.”

He took himself in his moist hand, running his palm once along the naturally lubricated cock ridges and angled himself against Julian’s hole while the fingers of his left hand slipped beneath the first layer of dermis just under his lover’s ribcage.

“ _Fuck me, Elim!_ ” Garak heard the words but as he could barely see straight, there was no clear indication that Julian had said them. Nevertheless, Garak acquiesced and plunged himself into the pliant flesh while his hands worked beneath the second and third layers of skin.

**Author's Note:**

> ... and that's as far as I got.
> 
> a) The title is from "Cruelty" by Kosheen.  
> b) The nature/title of the drug revealed in the crime scene-epilogue, which I already started writing. But basically, it's a compact, pill-form of meth. I imagine that meth is what it might take to get these two completely out of their minds.  
> c) Yeah, uh, I made myself sick writing this/looking up pictures. WAS IT WORTH IT, PN? If I can't finish it, then no; it fucking wasn't. *puts fist through wall*
> 
> Your thoughts/comments/advice/screams of horror are very much welcomed and appreciated, thankyoukindly.


End file.
